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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 1. I thought once how Theocritus had sung


I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair:
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,—
'Guess now who holds thee? '—' Death,' I said. But, there,
The silver answer rang,—' Not Death, but Love.' 



Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's other poems:
  1. The Holy Night
  2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 41. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
  3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne
  4. The House of Clouds
  5. Rosalind's Scroll


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